


Year Six

by SeeEmRunning



Series: Sam at Hogwarts [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 13:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1985058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeEmRunning/pseuds/SeeEmRunning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's sent back to America, where he finds family, friends, and peace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, the formatting didn't work out right. Sorry about that.

"Hello," Sam said quietly when Kate Milligan entered her home.

"Hi, Sam." She smiled. "Sleep well?"

"Well enough. How was your night?"

"It was a night." She hung her purse on a peg. Sam slid a plate of last night's dinner into the microwave for her. "You're going shopping today, right?"

"Right. I was just about to start breakfast for Adam."

"You're a lifesaver. I'm gonna go shower - be back in a bit."

She disappeared. Sam pulled out the pancake mix and leftover bacon from last night's chicken carbonara and got to work.

It was a strange arrangement they had. Sam hadn't even known of her existence, nor that of his half-brother, until the American Ministry convinced her to take him in. He'd shown up with a battered duffel full of spellbooks and tatty Muggle clothes and not much else. He didn't even have a wand anymore; it had been snapped during the battle at the Ministry.

The witch who had made all of this possible was the same one who had come to get him years before. He hadn't expected that, but she'd smiled tiredly and said, "We're understaffed at the moment. I took care of you five years ago, so I'm taking care of you now. How do you feel about living with your half-brother and his mother?"

In the end, it didn't really _matter_ how he felt about living with complete strangers, because he had no real choice.

Still, he was glad it had worked out this way. Adam was a sweet kid, even if he _had_ been surly when Sam first showed up. Kate had been unsure but welcoming; Sam's ability to get Adam out of bed, fed, and to school on time had won her over. Adam's school year had ended two weeks after Sam had come, but he still made sure Adam was up and ready every morning they had something planned. He slept poorly enough that he had time to run and shower before Kate got home at seven.

This morning, two weeks before Salem Witch's Institute's term started, they were going to the American equivalent of Diagon Alley to get school supplies. Unlike Hogwarts, Salem was taking every first-year who lived in a Muggle household as a group, with a few teachers there to keep an eye on everyone and answer questions. That evening was an open house at the school itself, including a tour. Sam had grinned when he'd heard that, remembering his first year at Hogwarts, where three-quarters of the school hadn't even been given maps.

A yawn from the doorway caught his attention. "Morning, Adam," he said, handing over a plate. "Eat fast and get dressed, okay? We have orientation today."

"Kay," Adam said sleepily. He was always more pliant when he'd just woken up.

"Milk or orange juice?" Sam asked, knowing the answer before Adam gave it.

"Juice."

Sam poured him a glass and plunked it down in front of him. He poured himself coffee left from when Kate had woken up the night before, added sugar and milk, and sat down with his own plate. The coffee here was much better than the swill he'd learned to make by spell.

"Morning, boys," Kate said, coming back into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around her head.

"Morning, Mom," Adam said, accepting her kiss on the cheek.

"Big day for you two today," she said, taking her plate from the microwave and sitting down with them to eat. "Sam, you have the list?"

"Right here," he said, pulling a piece of notebook paper from his pocket. Kate had written down all the questions she had and made Sam promise to ask them.

"Thanks," she said. "I wish I could come with you."

"Wish you could, too, Mom," Adam said wistfully.

"Look on the bright side," Sam said bracingly. "We won't be banging around the house waking you up all day long."

"You don't do that and you know it," she said. "That's what Ambien is for."

Sam grinned at her, and for a moment the sunny kitchen blurred, to be replaced by a half-transformed werewolf digging its teeth into Lavender Brown's neck while spells flashed all around.

He swallowed and gripped the table. "Sam?" Kate asked.

"Sorry," he said apologetically. "Vision."

"I'll get Tylenol," Adam said, racing out of the kitchen.

"Anyone we know?" Kate asked quietly. Sam had told her the content of his visions, but they were a secret from Adam. He was far too young to be burdened as Sam had.

"An old classmate of mine," he answered, just as soft. "In the battle at my old school."

"I'm sorry," Kate said sympathetically.

Adam came back in and tossed Sam the bottle. Sam took three.

They finished eating, and Sam shooed Adam upstairs to get dressed and comb his hair. "You could use a haircut yourself," Kate said, smothering a yawn.

Sam shrugged. "Maybe so." It was down to his shoulders now. "Go to bed, Kate. I'll finish cleaning up here."

"Yeah. Night."

"Sleep well."

"Be careful," she said firmly.

"I will be," Sam promised her, opening the dishwasher to put in the plates.  
***  
There was a knock on the door at 9:34, precisely the time they'd been told. Sam opened the door to see a pretty woman in her mid-thirties wearing jeans and a purple blouse.

"You would be Sam Winchester?" she asked.

"I am," he said, offering his hand.

"Delilah Sampson. I teach Charms." She took it. "You have a half-brother coming with us?"

"Yeah, Adam. He should be down soon."

"I'm here," Adam said. Sam heard him pounding down the stairs.

"Excellent," Sampson said cheerfully. "If I may come in? And I'll need to speak to your mother."

"She's asleep," Adam said.

"She works night shift," Sam explained, closing the door behind her. "What do you need to talk to her about?"

"Just - make sure she knows where you're going."

Sam smiled. "She knows," he said. "Made me write down a dozen questions to ask."

"Can we go?" Adam asked eagerly.

Sampson hesitated, then said, "Sure," and produced a small tripod from her pocket.

"Expansion Charm?" Sam guessed.

She laughed. "Yep. This is a Portkey."

"What's that?" Adam asked.

"It lets us move quickly," she said. "Like - um-"

"Teleportation," Sam supplied. "Better than Floo - that's traveling by fire - or Apparition."

"You've Apparated?" Sampson asked.

Sam put his hand on the tripod. "Side-Along. I was supposed to learn how to do it myself this year."

Sampson nodded. "Adam, just put a hand on this."

"And brace yourself," Sam warned. "It's a bumpy landing."

The moment Adam gripped the leg closest to him, they were off, spinning rapidly around. Sam closed his eyes to keep from getting nauseous.

His feet hit solid ground, and he automatically reached out with his left hand to keep Adam upright. "Teleportation?" Adam wheezed.

Sam laughed. "Apparition's less comfortable," he informed Adam. "But you won't have to worry about that for a few years."

"Welcome!" a new man said heartily. He, too, was in his mid-thirties and attractive. "I'm Frank Furter. I teach Transfiguration."

"Adam Milligan." Adam was grinning, wide and eager, looking around the room.

Sam did the same. It was a standard pub, much like the Leaky Cauldron except better-lit. "Sam Winchester," he said.

"I have a few things for you," Furter said with a strong Georgia drawl, digging into a pocket of his khakis. He was dressed as most wizards dressed when trying to pass for Muggles - that is to say, _badly_. He had on a short-sleeved purple shirt, a bright green sweater vest, a top hat, and pink high heels more than likely charmed to be comfortable

Sam accepted the two letters and the package and leaned against the wall. One letter bore the Ministry seal and had 'OWL RESULTS ENCLOSED' stamped underneath his name in lieu of an address. One had his name written in Dumbledore's unmistakeable hand. The package bore Sirius's messy pen.

He opened the package first and examined the mirror that fell out. There was a note taped to it:

_Sam - this is a Two-Way Mirror. Sirius gave Harry the match to his; I'm giving you the match to mine. It's the best way to keep in touch across continents. I'm afraid with the war heating up, we may need all hands on deck. Merely say my name to activate it. If I must be away from a secure location, I will leave it in the kitchen, and a friend will speak to you._

_Albus charmed this into a Portkey. It will bring you to its twin when activated._

_Take care of yourself in America, and if you need to get out fast, don't be afraid to come back. The password is 'Narwhal droppings' - not something that will come up in everyday conversation._

_Remus Lupin_

_Congratulations on your Animagus form in the battle - nobody ever did figure out what ripped out Dolohov's throat. Sirius_

Sam swallowed and slid the mirror back into its envelope, which bore the unmistakable feel of an interior Cushioning Charm to prevent it from breaking.

He opened Dumbledore's letter next.

_Sam Winchester-_

_I am truly sorry I could not get the Board of Governors to review the appeal for your expulsion before the beginning of the new school year. I have done everything in my power, but there are unfortunate bylaws in effect. Even if they do rule in your favor, I'm afraid the current laws make it impossible for you to return before the Spring term._

_Remus has sent you the twin to his mirror. If necessary, I will call for your help - the Ministry battle has proven you are more than capable of being a soldier, and as Voldemort gains power, it becomes less likely we will have the luxury of keeping underage fighters on the sidelines. If you have information relating to his movements, I beg you to let Remus know._

_Take care of yourself,  
Albus Dumbledore_

Sam shook his head in exasperation. He knew Dumbledore wasn't perfect; he also knew that if he had been one of his pet Gryffindors, he would have never been returned to America in the first place, or warned that he might need to take to the front lines in the war.

"Something wrong?" Adam asked.

"Nothing, Adam," Sam said. "Just my old headmaster. Now shush - I need to see how I did on my exams last year."

He slit the seal and pulled out the pieces of parchment.

"What is that?" Adam asked.

"Parchment. Wizards still write with quills," Sam said absently.

"No we don't," Sampson said.

"They do in Britain."

Sam looked down at the paper.

**_O RDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS_ **

  
**_Pass Grades_ **

_O UTSTANDING (O)_

_E XCEEDS EXPECTATIONS (E)_

_A CCEPTABLE_

  
_**Fail Grades** _

_P OOR_

_D READFUL_

_T ROLL_

**  
_Samuel Francis Winchester has achieved:_   
**  
Arithmancy O  
Astronomy A  
Care of Magical Creatures O  
Charms O  
Defense Against the Dark Arts O  
Divination O  
Herbology O  
History of Magic A  
Potions O  
Transfiguration O

"Well?" Adam asked.

"Passed everything," he said in relief. "Didn't do well in Astronomy or History of Magic, but I had a seizure in one and two professors were attacked during the other, so passing is good."

"Two professors were attacked?" Sampson asked. "Why?"

Sam glanced at the crowd of curious eleven-year-olds, which had swollen to nearly fifty while he read his mail, and said lightly, "Long story. Is everyone here?"

"Yep," Furter said happily. "All right, y'all, let's get goin'!"

Sam tucked the letters and mirror into his bag, an old green tote of Kate's, next to the water bottles, Tylenol, and money. He took up the rear, behind the eleven-year-olds and their parents, who were now following Furter out of the pub and into a sunny street.

Sampson fell back to talk to him. "So. The professors?" she asked quietly.

"Ministry official got appointed to teach Defense," Sam answered, just as soft. "Had a real problem with part-humans. Our Care of Magical Creatures professor, Hagrid, he was part-giant. During our Astronomy OWL, she got six Aurors and attacked him. McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress, came running out. Five Stunners to the chest - she's lucky she lived."

"What did Hagrid do?" she asked, bewildered.

"Nothing," Sam said, voice venomous. "She was sadistic, that's all."

"Oh, I doubt-"

Sam held up his right hand. "She made me cut this into the back of my hand for seven hours a night, every night for months," he said flatly.

Sampson blinked at the scars. "How?"

"She had a special quill." Sam kept his eyes on Adam when he spoke - it was easier. "Wrote in my own blood."

"Blood Quills are illegal, though."

"Maybe over here," Sam said. "Not in jolly old England."

"Wand shop first," Furter called, pointing.

"Oh, excellent," Sam said. "I need a new one."

"What happened to yours?"

"It got broken during the Ministry battle in June," Sam said.

Sampson choked. "You were there?"

"Yeah. Not fun."

"I can't imagine it would be! Even for someone of your background!"

"Background?" Adam piped up.

Sam glanced down at him. "Yeah, background. I told you about killing that basilisk, right?"

"No," Adam said.

"I want to hear that story, too," Sampson said.

Sam half-smiled. "I'll tell you when we get a break. Pretty sure everyone will want to hear it."

"Aw, come on, Sam!" Adam whined.

"Later," he said firmly. "Now go on inside. I'll be right behind you."

Before he could follow Adam in the door, Sampson closed it. "I wasn't referring to the basilisk," she said quietly.

"I know," Sam said. "But Adam doesn't know what John does - I'm not sure Kate ever even told John he had another son. I'm not going to be the one to tell him."

"Why not? And why do you call him John?"

Sam laughed bitterly. "John put a kill order out on me," he said. "Why would I call him 'Dad' after that? Adam doesn't need to know his father will kill him if he ever finds out what he is. He's a kid."

"So are you," Sampson pointed out.

Sam just shook his head. "Can we go in now?" he asked. "I promised Kate I'd keep an eye on Adam."

Sampson looked like she was battling with herself, and then she sighed and said, "Sure. I shouldn't leave Frank on his own with so many, anyway."

"Especially in a wand shop," Sam said, shuddering exaggeratedly.

Sampson laughed.

Adam ended up with an eight-inch wand of unicorn hair and chestnut. Sam replaced his own wand with one slightly longer - thirteen and a half inches of phoenix feather and hazelwood - and promptly ran it through its paces with a contingent of shield charms. It performed beautifully, and he left after paying for both his and Adam's wands with the American wizarding currency, which was broken up much more sensibly than Britain's was - ten ellises to a foil, ten foils to a grunge, ten grunges to a hank.

That done, they moved as a group to the bookstore. "Which classes are you takin'?" Furter asked.

"Are they the same as Hogwarts'?" Sam asked.

"How'd I know what Hogwarts teaches?" he asked with a laugh.

Sam smiled sheepishly. "Good point," he admitted.

"Hey - Professor Sampson! Take 'em through, please?" Furter called.

"You got it!" Sampson called back.

Furter motioned him to the side and pulled a piece of notebook paper and a pen from his pocket. "All right, we got...Potions, Defense, Charms, Transfiguration, Fortune-Telling - they said you were a Seer, I assume you'll want that one? - Physical Education, that one's required to take until your last year - uh, Plants, Spell Design, Magical Mathematics, Animal Care, Astronomy, Alchemy, and History. You can take between six and ten classes."

"Wait, run that by me again?" Sam asked.

Furter smiled kindly and handed him the paper. "Six to ten," he said.

Sam examined the choices. He definitely didn't want Fortune-Telling; he'd had more than enough Divination for the rest of his life. Coming into Alchemy so late would probably be a bad idea. He had no interest in continuing Astronomy or History.

"Um...Potions, Defense, Charms, Transfiguration, Phys Ed, Plants, Spell Design, Animal Care, and Math."

Furter nodded and tapped the notebook paper with his wand. The classes he didn't want to continue with disappeared; book titles appeared next to the classes he wanted. He already had several of them; all he needed was _The Standard Book of Spells, Grades Six and Seven_ by Miranda Goshawk and _A Guide to Magical Defense_ by Fitzgerald Flunkering.

Sam found them easily and spent five minutes flipping idly though other defense books before he made his way back to Adam to pay for the standard set of first-year books as well as his own.

When they were all assembled, Sampson checked her watch. "All right, people! We have time to hit the Potions store before lunch," she said cheerfully.

Sam ended up buying the standard first-year kit for Adam and restocking his own ingredients, and then they returned to the pub for lunch. They were in a room off to the side of the main bar, with a table along one wall set up buffet-style. Sam filled his plate with salad and found a seat next to Adam.

"So. The basilisk?" he prompted.

Sam took a bite and said, "Finish your food first."

Adam bolted his lunch and then said, "Basilisk?"

"You have a one-track mind, you know that?" Sam said, amused.

"Oh, come on, Winchester," Sampson said from the other side of the table. "Everyone's curious."

Sam made a face. "All right. I was twelve when people started being attacked - Petrified. Paralyzed, kind of," he explained. "The first attack happened on Halloween. The caretaker's cat, right outside one of the bathrooms. Then came Colin Creevey, a first-year. Then Justin Fitch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick, one of the ghosts-"

"Ghosts?" one of the fathers interrupted, looking alarmed.

"Yeah, ghosts," Sam said. "They were everywhere, every house had a mascot. I warded one's room against the school poltergeist once. Anyway, so they got Petrified, and then two more - Hermione Granger, who was twelve, and Penelope Clearwater, who was fifteen. That same day I got knocked out, and I woke up in the Chamber of Secrets. It was a secret room one of the school's founders built to house the basilisk. Ginny Weasley, who was eleven, had been taken, too.

"Harry Potter and two of our teachers came down. Voldemort - he's sort of like a terrorist mixed with a warlord, partially killed fifteen years ago, recently resurrected - he'd left part of himself down there, and it had been he who released the basilisk. I started spelling Cutting Curses at it when it showed itself while the teachers kept Voldemort busy. Long story short, I killed it and the teachers got rid of Voldemort, and I got bitten and was technically dead for a few minutes."

"Can we go back to the resurrected terrorist?" one of the women asked.

"Don't worry, he's concentrating on Britain," Sam said calmly. "And his followers can't fight to save their lives."

"How do you know that?" one of the men demanded.

"There was a battle two months ago," Sam said. "Deep in the Ministry of Magic - kind of like the Congressional building, the entire government is housed there, no satellite offices at all. Harry Potter is a goddamn moron and took off, got cornered by Death Eaters with some of his friends, and somehow I ended up going there with a couple soldiers to get them out. Four dead, all theirs, ten wounded on our side, twenty wounded on theirs. They're in prison now."

"Why you?" the same man asked.

"I have...some experience in combat," Sam said, choosing his words carefully.

"Is that why you won't tell me about Dad?" Adam asked.

"That's exactly why," Sam said firmly. "So - um - what's on the agenda next?"

"School uniforms," Sampson said. "Appointment's in about ten minutes. We should probably get going."

They moved toward the door en masse. Adam instantly launched into a conversation with some of the other kids; Sam kept an eye on him from his place at the back.

The man who had questioned him earlier matched pace beside him. "Jim Langley. Air Force," he said.

"Sam Winchester," Sam said, shaking his hand.

"Experience in combat, hmm?"

Sam nodded. "Yes."

"You're not going to elaborate?"

"No. You know I've killed a basilisk - that's enough to be getting on with, don't you think?"

"Meaning there's no chance in hell you're talking."

"Exactly," Sam said pleasantly. "So which one's yours?"

"That one," he said, pointing at a redhead. "Name's Marie. She's so excited."

"So's Adam," Sam said. "Can't wait to learn how to do magic."

Langley grinned. "Don't think any of 'em can. So why'd you leave Hogwarts?"

Sam shrugged. "Immigration issues came up," he said vaguely. It was a lie he'd decided to tell early on in his time at Kate's. "I don't even pretend to understand how these people work things out."

"Confusing even after so much time with them?"

Sam groaned. "You've no idea...doesn't help everything I know is about the British."

"Sam - hey, Sam, look!" Adam called excitedly, pointing. "Do they really ride _brooms?_ "

Sam looked at the shop. _Quidditch Quay,_ the sign read. The new Firebolt was in the window.

"Yeah," Sam called back. "Sport a bit like football mixed with rugby, called Quidditch. I was goalie last year."

"Really?" one of the girls asked. "What was it like?"

"Boring," Sam said. "We had a good team - I didn't have much to do."

At the robe shop, Sam bought them both used sets and quietly told Adam he could tailor them to fit at home.

After they'd all gotten uniforms, they Portkeyed to the school itself. Salem Institute was an old greystone manor that stood on an imposing hill. There were outbuildings all around, which Furter pointed to. "There's the gymnasium - the laundry - the greenhouses - the Quidditch pitch - the barn - and the Owlery."

"Just up ahead is Salem itself," Sampson called, walking backwards. "That's where most of your classes will be held - we'll take a quick tour around the inside before we meet with the Headmistress for an information session!"

The basement of the building contained the kitchens, the Potions room, a dormitory, the teachers' lounge, and the library. The first floor held Transfiguration, Charms, another dorm, and the dining hall. The second floor had two dorms and the Defense, Spell Design, and Math classrooms; the third floor held the final two dorms, Astronomy, Divination, and History. The attic, they were told, was used for storage. 

They had a schedule very different from Hogwarts'. There were five periods per day, not four, and those classes cycled on the day. 'Alpha' days had one set of classes; 'beta' days had others. Socially, the students were divided into six groups in alphabetical order, which were pitted against each other in a schoolwide competition; the winner got the 'golden broomstick' to keep in its dormitory. Like Hogwarts Houses, those dormitories also put together Quidditch teams to play against each other in a round-robin tournament.

After Sampson and Furter explained all this, they led the group into the dining hall. It was a modest room with oak paneling and six long tables running along the length of it. A table running the width of the room stood at the front, on a small dais. A woman in her mid-sixties was standing there, leaning on a cane. Furter got them all sitting, parents in back and students in front; Sam and Adam were near the back of the students.

"Welcome!" the woman called to them all. "I am Wilhelmina Redcliffe, the headmistress of Salem Witch's Institute. I am here to answer any questions you may have."

One of the fathers called, "How do we keep in touch with our kids?"

"By owl," Redcliffe answered promptly.

Sam spread the paper with all of Kate's questions on his lap, pulled out a pen, and started marking down answers as others asked the questions.

At last, Redcliffe called, "Any more questions? No? Then I look forward to seeing you all on August twenty-third! Sam Winchester, if I may have a moment?"

Sam and Adam waited as the hall emptied out around them, and then Sam approached Redcliffe. Adam stayed in his chair, absorbed in his Charms textbook.

"Welcome to Salem, Sam," Redcliffe said warmly. "There are a few things applicable only to you. It's very rare for us to get transfer students. We've received your OWL results, but there are some tests we'd like you to take, just to place your grade level."

"All right," Sam said.

Redcliffe smiled. "Oh, yes, you've been in England a while, haven't you? Got the accent and everything."

Sam smiled genially. "So - tests?"

"Yes, of course," she said. "I'd like you to take them tonight, but I understand if you'd rather come back tomorrow."

Sam checked his watch. It was coming up on six - Kate would have already left for her shift. "There's no hurry to get back tonight," he said. "And I'd rather just get it done."

"Excellent," Redcliffe said. "Follow me, then."

Sam did as he was told, stopping briefly to bend down and grab the tote. "C'mon, Adam," he said. "There's a bit of work I've yet to do."

"What kind of work?" Adam asked interestedly, closing the book and standing.

"Placement tests," Sam said.

"What about dinner?" Adam asked as he followed them out of the hall.

Sam rummaged in the bag and passed him an apple. "That'll tide you over until we get home, right?"

"What about you?" he asked stubbornly.

"I'm not hungry."

"You had half a plate of salad for lunch, how are you not hungry?"

"I'm just not, Adam, drop it," Sam said.

"Fine," he grumbled, taking a bite out of the apple.

"We'll do stuffed shells for dinner, how's that?" Sam said. "Now I've got a wand again, they won't take three hours to make."

"Okay," Adam said happily.

Redcliffe stopped an opened a door just next to the dining hall. "My office," she said, gesturing for them to go in. They settled in the chairs in front of her desk.

It was cramped, very different from the round, airy office Dumbledore had had. There were overstuff bookshelves towering to the ceiling, papers placed sideways on top and stacks of paper and books on the floor.

"I have a general placement test for you here," Redcliffe said, pulling a thick, stapled booklet from a desk drawer. "Answer as much as you can - questions cover all subjects and range from first to fourteenth semester. We'll mark it tomorrow."

"Okay," Sam said, taking the paper.

He breezed through the Charms, Transfiguration, Defense, and Animals sections. He knew almost nothing asked about in the 'History' portion - as he'd thought, British history was vastly different from American history. He was confident with Math and Spell Design, less so with Astronomy. Plant questions were answered easily, Potions questions more carefully.

An hour after he began, he passed the booklet back.

"Thank you," Redcliffe said pleasantly. "Do you have any questions for me?"

"No, ma'am," Sam said.

"Then you are dismissed. Professor Sampson is waiting downstairs to take you home. Have a lovely evening."

"You, too," Sam said, smiling at her.  
***  
The remaining fortnight passed quickly. Adam begged him to teach him some type of magic, and Sam started him on Shield Charms. It took him the entire two weeks to get 'Protego' to work properly. Sam tailored their robes, including Undetectable Expansion Charms on their pockets so they'd never run out of room. He took to carrying the mirror in his right pocket, unwilling to leave it somewhere he couldn't hear.

Then it was time for school to start, and when the amulet they'd been sent chirped in warning, Sam called Adam. "Bye, Mom," Adam said, hugging her fiercely.

"Bye, baby," she said, kissing his cheek. "You take care, now. You, too, Sam."

"I will," Sam said, shouldering his duffel. "I'll look out for him, too. Thanks for having me, Kate."

"Of course." She smiled, eyes watering. "Write."

"We will," Adam said, taking hold of the amulet Sam was offering. A moment later, there were jerks behind their navels and they were spinning, spinning, spinning - and landed in a small, cozy room. Sam put an arm behind Adam to keep him upright.

"I hate these things," Adam grumbled sulkily.

"I know," Sam said, dropping it into the basket provided. "Come on, let's move before someone else comes in."

A short, thin woman whose features spoke of Chinese heritage greeted them just outside the room. "I'm Professor Donna," she said, "the Plants instructor. Your names, please?"

"Adam Milligan," he said.

She paged through the folder in front of her. "Milligan...Milligan...here it is. Your schedule and dorm assignment," she said, handing him a sheaf of papers. "And you?"

"Sam Winchester," he said.

"Ah, yes. The transfer." She smiled briefly and handed him three pages. "Your Herbology professor spoke well of you in her letter. Your placement scores proved her right."

Sam smiled back. "Professor Sprout's a good teacher," he said.

"I'm sure she is. Hogwarts' reputation is legendary. If you leave this room and go through the doorway just to your left, you'll find the dining hall. Leave your bags along the right side of the hallway and they will be moved to your dormitories."

"Thanks," Sam said, nudging Adam.

They stopped in the hallway to look through their packets. SAM WINCHESTER - F - MIXED SEMESTER was printed at the top of each paper.

The first sheet was a generic welcome letter that included dorm assignment and a summary of the school's schedules and policies. The second was a map. The third was his schedule.

On alpha days, Sam had Potions, Defense, Charms, and Transfiguration, with a free period before dinner. On beta days he had Math, Spell Design, Animal Care, Plants, and Physical Education. Classes were an hour and a half long each.

"What's yours look like?" Sam asked Adam. "Here - switch with me -"

Adam's alpha days held the same classes as Sam's, just in reverse order - Transfiguration, Charms, Defense, and Potions. Rather than ending with a free period, he would end with Astronomy. His beta days began with PE and continued with Plants, Math, another Potions lesson, and History.

"How come you get a free period?" Adam complained.

"Because I'm an upperclassman, I suppose," Sam said. "It was that way at Hogwarts, once you chose electives you had free periods. Potions every day, huh?"

"Guess so," Adam said. "Hey - why're you an F and I'm an A?"

"Probably dorm assignment," Sam said, glancing up. "This says you're in first semester. Mine says mixed - I guess the placement test didn't work the same way for all the subjects. Let's head in."

Adam took a deep breath and nodded, eyes huge. Some of the excitement was probably wearing off now, replaced by fear of the unknown, and Sam said, "Hey. I'm right here. I'm in dorm F, you know where to find me if you need me, okay?"

Adam nodded.

"Good. Now come on." Sam opened the door. "And get some vegetables," he added.

The six tables had banners hanging overhead, all in different colors, each with an embroidered letter. 'A' shone silver against eggplant purple, and it was to this table Sam gently pushed Adam. He himself went to the table with a golden 'F' against dark green, which grew abruptly silent.

A boy stood. "You're the new transfer?"

"Yes," Sam said, meeting his eyes squarely. "Sam Winchester."

"Donovan Fiddle. I'm an elected leader for Semesters Thirteen and Fourteen." Year Seven Prefect, in Hogwarts terms. "Which semester did they put you in?"

"No idea," Sam said.

"You did weird things with the placement test, dintcha? Come on, then, which did you do worst on?"

"History," Sam said instantly. "Hogwarts only taught British history, so I've learnt nothing about America's."

"Best?"

"No idea," Sam said again.

"Should be on the back of your schedule."

"Oh, really? I didn't even think to flip it over."

"Sit down and take a look, then," Donovan said, gesturing at an empty place on the bench.

Sam sat down across from him and flipped over the packet. "Um - let's see, I got - O in Defense, Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Plants, and Animal Care, E in Spell Design and Math, A in Astronomy, T in History."

Donovan whistled lowly. "On the placement test? Damn, dude, Hogwarts must be _rough._ "

"Why d'you say that?"

"'Cause that's basically your semester level," Donovan informed him. "O means last semester pass, nothing more for Salem to teach. E is twelfth semester pass. A is tenth semester - you get the rest of it. T is total failure, though."

"Figured that out, funny enough," Sam said, crooking a smile.

"Lemme see your schedule," Donovan said, holding out a hand. Sam passed it over. "We've got most of our classes together, guess they put in last-semester classes to pad out your schedule - hey, Emily!"

A brunette with creamy skin the color of almond-flesh looked down the table. "What's up?" she called.

"C'mere a sec."

She said something to the girl sitting across from her and came down. "What's up?" she repeated, pushing her dark hair behind her ears.

"You got classes any of these times?" Donovan asked, showing her Sam's schedule. "Transfer student, scored last semester on all his placements."

"Um, lemme see," she said, digging a folded piece of paper from her own pocket. "Uh - no, sorry. I'm not taking Math or Spell Design - I think Rebecca is, though. Hey, Rebecca!"

The girl she'd been talking to joined them. "Whatcha want?"

"You have any of these?"

"Um." Rebecca looked down at the paper she was handed. "Spell Design same block. This is a weird schedule."

"Transfer," Donovan explained, pointing.

"Ooh, from Hogwarts?" Rebecca said, eyes lighting up. "I bet that's exciting."

"Um, it can be," Sam said.

Rebecca giggled. "And the accent!"

Sam felt himself turn bright red. Thankfully, he was saved by a woman calling, "Find a seat, everyone!"

"Scooch," Emily ordered, shoving at Donovan. He held up his hands and moved down so she and Rebecca could squeeze in.

"Welcome, everyone, to a new year at Salem Witch's Institute!" Redcliffe said when they'd all been seated, beaming around at them all. "As you may have heard, in addition to our regular influx of new students, we have a transfer coming to us from Hogwarts. He will be mixing with the thirteenth-semester classes, so please, make him feel at home."

Sam blushed harder. Had she really needed to make an announcement?

"Please remember that hexing, jinxing, and otherwise bullying other students is not allowed," Redcliffe continued. "Any students found dueling will be punished severely. Any students caught leaving the grounds without permission will be in similar trouble. Any student with greater than thirty demerits faces suspension and possible expulsion. No products from Grinter's Gags are permitted on the premises. Full lists of rules and banned items are posted in the dormitories and on my office door.

"Quidditch tryouts will take place this Saturday. First-years are not allowed on the teams.

"As always, let us hope that this year is filled with education, cooperation, and excitement."

She clapped her hands, and the tables filled with food. Rebecca handed him his schedule back and said, "So. What's your name?"

"Sam," he said, serving himself spinach salad.

"What's Hogwarts like?"

Sam considered. "Big and dangerous," he said at last. "It's an old, converted castle with a forest we can't go into without risking death. Three years ago they put dementors all over the place. It was horrible."

Donovan laughed. "Black humor, huh? Really, though, what's it like?"

Sam blinked at him. "I'm serious. One of my year-mates came back to the dormitory panicking after he served detention in there one night. He saw somebody kill a unicorn and drink its blood."

Emily raised her eyebrows. "Did you ever go in?"

"Only during Care of Magical Creatures class," Sam said. "We did thestrals that day."

"But those are really dangerous!" Emily said.

"No they're not," Sam said. "They pull the school carriages up from the train station. I petted them when I was in first year. They're just overgrown horses."

"Yeah, but - don't you have to see someone die first?" Donovan asked.

"You do," Sam said, taking a bite of his spinach. "So tell me about the teachers here."

They exchanged quick glances, and then Rebecca said, "You know Sampson and Furter already, right? They did your orientation?" Sam nodded, and she continued, "Dinson's not here yet - he's the Potions professor. Anyway, so, the redhead up there is Alice Sidewinder. She teaches Animal Care. She's nice, a little strict, but fair."

"Next to her is Janet Solaris," Donovan said, pointing to a woman with frizzy, greying brown hair that exploded around her thin face. Glasses dangled against her chest at the end of a colorful chain. "She's a ditz. Super-nice, but a real space case."

"On the other side of Sampson is Mark Sman," Emily said. Sman was a bald, thick-built black man who glowered at his plate. "Defense teacher. He used to be a detective for the ACA - sorry, American Criminalistics Association. Law enforcement. He spent forty years there."

"Then Jem Arabi," Donovan said. He was a small man with golden skin. "History teacher, but you won't have him. Next to him is Isaac Pascal, our dorm head and the math teacher here for the past seventy years or so." Pascal looked old and frail enough Sam could believe that. "Some of the meaner students have a running bet for when he'll die and we'll get someone new."

"My old history teacher was a ghost," Sam said.

"I get the feeling you have some stories about that place," Rebecca said. "Anyway, next to Pascal is Ronald Runner, the gym teacher. You've seen the TV-style gym coaches? That's him. He also runs the health classes."

"You haven't lived until you've seen him bumble through sex ed," Emily said wickedly.

"Do we have to take that?" Sam asked timidly.

"Yeah. Last two years of gym, health's mandatory. Anyway, next to him is Bella Donna, the Plants teacher. She's very...enthusiastic. She grew up in Beijing, so she has a bit of an accent, comes out strong when she's angry."

"Anya Abra's next to her," Donovan said appreciatively. Sam could see why the sudden change in tone: Abra was a statuesque blonde who was gorgeous even from this distance. "She's the Spell Design teacher, super-strict, doesn't have a lot of patience."

"I think that's all the ones you have, right?" Emily said.

"Yeah."

"Great. So. The scars on your hand - how'd those happen?"

Sam grimaced at the sight of the scar spelling out _I must not talk back to authority_ on the back of his right hand. "Sadistic teacher," he said.

That story, and stories of other misadventures at Hogwarts, drew the attention of the people around him. Sam told them about Umbridge and the Triwizard Tournament before they were dismissed for their dorms. Sam followed the crowd up the stairs to the third floor and into the dormitory in the west wing.

The room he went into had plush carpeting and portraits all along the walls. There was a fireplace, unlit in the warmth of August, along the north wall. The entire room was done in blue, brown, and green; three crystal chandeliers hung equidistant from each other.

"Girls' rooms are to the right," Emily told him. "You'll be sharing with John, Louis, and Frank, I think. Identical triplets. Good luck keeping them all straight - they even mix up each other, sometimes."

"Thanks," Sam said.

"No problem. Hey - hey Louis! Show Sam where the room is!"

A young man who looked like he'd come straight out of a commercial advertising the Hardy Boys materialized at her elbow. "I'm Louis," he said, holding out a hand.

Sam took it. "Sam."

Louis grinned. "I got that. C'mon, I'll show you where we sleep."


	2. Chapter 2

Sam's alarm went off at five-thirty the next morning. He shut it off, rolled out of bed, and changed into shorts and an old T-shirt to find his way downstairs and run around the building for a little while.

After two laps around the building in about an hour, Sam went back inside to shower and dress. He finished just as a loud bell tolled, eliciting groans from his roommates. Sam just shrugged and went back to brushing his teeth.

His first class, Potions, was taught by Derrick Dinson, a blond man of average height, average weight, and average build. He was, Sam thought, entirely forgettable but for his eyes, one of which was a blue that rivaled Dumbledore's and the other of which was such a dark brown it was almost black.

"Welcome to thirteenth-semester Potions," Dinson said. "I thought we'd do a review today, just to gauge how much you remember from your previous years. Correct answers win your dormitory one point each - split into those teams now, if you would?"

Sam blinked and looked around. Except for the three the night before, he hadn't met any older students in his dorm yet.

A girl with nut-brown skin and black hair plucked his sleeve. "You're F, right?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "You?"

"Yeah. Keisha. We're the only two in this class."

Sam looked around. There were only a dozen or so people in the room. "Is there another class? Or-"

"Nah. Potions is optional after semester ten, so these are the people who enjoy the subject or are planning on being Healers or some shit."

Sam nodded, but before he could say anything, Dinson called, "All right, then! You know the rules by now - Sam, just raise your hand if you know the answer, I call on the first hand I see. First question - what is the active ingredient in Burn Poultice?"

Sam's hand shot into the air. "Menthol."

"Or peppermint extract, yes," Dinson said. "Point to F."

"Good job," Keisha whispered to him.

The review took a half hour. The remaining hour of class was spent on notes for a Strengthening Solution - apparently Umbridge hadn't been lying when she'd said it was an advanced potion.

"What do you have next?" Keisha asked him when they were packing up.

"Defense."

She made a face. "I was never good with that. I think you've got Jeffrey in that class, though - you know where you're going?"

"Second floor, west classroom. Where're you headed?" he asked as they emerged.

"Library," she said, pointing. "Got a free period now. Better hurry - you've only got five minutes to get up there, and Sman doesn't like tardiness."

"Noted," Sam said, and he hurried off.

This class had more people than his Potions class did, though not by much - seventeen students were in the room. Sman took role first, checking them off against a list without bothering to call names. "You'd be Winchester, then? The hunter?" Sman asked him at the end.

Everyone else in the room sucked in a breath. Sam flinched, then straightened - he'd survived Hogwarts knowing, he'd survive Salem knowing. He'd just have to find Adam before the rumor reached him. "I am," he said.

"I was told you killed a troll and a basilisk your first two years at your old school."

"Yes, sir."

"And you fought in the Ministry mess."

"I did."

Sman nodded curtly. "So you're familiar with dueling."

"Not formally," Sam said. Then he tried to joke, "I'm more used to the no-holds-barred mistakes-mean-death kind."

"Hmm," Sman said. "A demonstration, then. Some holds barred."

"Sorry?"

"Get up here." Sman flicked his wand, and a large rectangle appeared on the floor. "We're starting dueling this year. I always check my students' skill levels before I begin. You're up first...we'll do reverse-alphabetical this year."

Sam licked his lips nervously, memories of his second-year dueling club flitting through his head. The only useful thing he'd learned there was that Harry spoke Parseltongue.

When he was standing across from Sman, Sman said, "Standard rules apply. No spells that draw blood. No spells that can cause damage the caster doesn't know how to reverse. Stepping outside the rectangle constitutes a forfeit. The duel ends when a participant is knocked unconscious or disarmed. Understand?"

Sam swallowed. "Yes, sir."

"Then bow, and we will begin."

Sam bowed, not taking his eyes off Sman. When they'd both straightened, Sman rapped out _"Stupefy!"_

" _Protego! Praemunio! Stupefy - expelliarmus - praemunio!"_

Sman blocked his spells easily and shot back at him. Sam dodged some, though he made sure to always have a block up - _praemunio_ allowed him to cast through it.

Sam managed to get a Jig Curse through Sman's defenses and pressed his advantage, not seeing the two pink lights arcing toward him until it was too late to get a second block up under the first. The first light obliterated his shield; the second hit him square in the chest, throwing him bodily into the wall. Stars popped in front of his eyes, but he still spelled a block.

"Duel's over," Sman said. "Return to your seat. Jeffrey, you're up."

Sam stumbled back to his chair and watched as Jeffrey Watson, a stocky ginger, dueled with Sman. He was awful, disarmed in under a minute, and Sman called, "Turner!"

When they were released, Sam raced downstairs. Adam had had Charms, and so he was already in the dining hall. Sam practically ran to him. "Adam," he said urgently, "can I have a minute?"

"Sure, Sam, what's up?" Adam asked, smiling cheerfully up at him.

Sam shook his head. "In private."

"Okay," he said, smile fading. "What's wrong?"

Sam pulled him outside and into a niche in the hallway. "Adam, you know how I haven't told you anything about Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"That's because he's a hunter. He hunts down supernatural beings, including witches and wizards."

Adam's mouth dropped open. _"What?"_

"Yeah. He raised me to do the same. Wizards aren't exactly thrilled about his job - that's why I had to go to Hogwarts, because none of the schools here would take me - they were too afraid he'd hunt me down. Adam, listen, I was planning on keeping this a secret - I kept it secret at Hogwarts for four years, and then - well, never mind. it's not important. Sman outed me. The school's not going to be thrilled. They know you're my brother. Be careful, okay? I'll tell them you didn't know, but I'm not sure they'll listen."

"Why wouldn't they listen?"

Sam shook his head. "Because people are idiots. I'm sorry, Adam. I didn't want to tell you until you were a little older."

"Why not?" Adam snapped. "This is my _dad._ "

"And the things I could tell you about him would give you nightmares," Sam snapped back. "Adam, hunting changes people. He's not the same man who met your mother eleven years ago. Six years ago he threatened to _hunt me down and kill me._ If he knew what you are, he'd do the same to you. I'm sorry, Adam, but I just - I can't even _think_ about him half the time, and I thought...as long as you didn't know, as long as you could think he was a good man….I don't know. I didn't think it would come up like this."

"When _were_ you planning on telling me?"

"I don't know," Sam admitted. "Before your third year, probably."

Adam shook his head. "I'm not a baby. You should have told me."

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I just...I wanted to protect you."

"Good job," Adam spat, and left. Sam watched him go, shoulders slumping. He'd get over it. Sam had just done what he thought was best. Adam would see that - he'd have to.

He would _have_ to, eventually.

After a minute, Sam followed Adam inside. The entire room went silent when he entered, every eye trained on him, and he had to force himself not to stumble. He'd survived one school knowing; he'd survive these strangers knowing.

To his very great surprise, no sooner had he sat down than people were hurling questions at him: What was it like? What had he hunted? How many kills did he have?

Some of his confusion must have shown on his face, because Donovan said loudly, "All right, all right, let him breathe."

"But it's so _cool_ ," someone who couldn't have been older than thirteen said plaintively.

That was a damn sight better than the reaction he'd been expecting, so Sam didn't try to argue it. Instead, he answered as many questions as he could before he escaped by claiming he needed to use the bathroom.

Sampson smiled at him when he walked through the door. "I see you escaped your admirers," she said dryly.

"Something like that," Sam said sheepishly. "Not the reaction I was expecting."

"Oh, it's a rebel thing," Sampson said. "Everyone wants in with the dangerous ones."

"Is that what it is? Cause at Hogwarts, _nobody_ wanted in with me," Sam said frankly.

Sampson's eyes darted to the scar on his neck and away. "So I've heard. We're just doing review today - don't bother getting your books out."

"So - uh - what gets covered this year?" Sam asked. 

"This year is protective and dueling charms - shields, disarming, that sort of thing. The Patronus Charm, at the end of the year, and nonverbal spellcasting."

Sam nodded. "Cool."

"You know any dueling spells?" she asked, and then: "Oh, no, wait, you were in that Ministry fight. Stupid question."

Sam smiled sheepishly. "I talked my last Charms professor into teaching me half a dozen shield charms back in first year, and my Defense professor into teaching me the Patronus my th- sixth semester."

"You really are trying to get to the lingo here, aren't you," Sampson said with a very pretty laugh. "Oh - Donovan! Practical lesson today."

"Awesome," Donovan said happily.

As promised, the lesson was a practical review, and in an hour and a half they did everything from _Accio_ to _Wingardium Leviosa._ There were a few charms Sam had never learned, but he caught on quickly enough. He'd learned the basic Water-Making Charm back in second year, but _Aguamenti_ , which created a jetstream, was completely new to him.

Then came Transfiguration with Furter, who grinned at them all and immediately launched into a lecture on Animagi. At the end of the period, he said, "Anyone interested in becoming an Animagus, meet here Wednesday at nine. Any questions?"

Sam raised his hand. "Do Animagi have to register with the government?"

"Of course not," Furter said. "Why would they?"  
***  
The next day, his first classes were Math and Spell Design. Pascal handed out a quiz to the four of them taking the math course and dismissed them; Abra outlined a project they would be doing, to create a spell of their own and teach it to the class. It was a year-long process, and so most of the class would be independent study.

Following lunch came Animal Care with Sidewinder, who reminded him of Sprout in demeanor if not in looks. "Unicorns today," she said cheerfully, "thought we'd start out the year with something lovely. Next week we'll go on to hippogriffs."

Sam remembered riding one around the pasture and grinned. He _liked_ hippogriffs.

"This way, then," she called, leading the twenty-two of them off to the barn. Sam hung out near the back. "These are foals, they don't mind men so much, but girls should come forward first, get them used to people."

Sidewinder rattled off trivia about unicorns, which most of the class scribbled down; Sam, who had learned about unicorns years before, jotted down a note or two when she mentioned something he'd either never learned or didn't remember.

"All right, boys, take these sugar cubes - that's it," Sidewinder said. "Winchester, come on."

"Unicorns don't like me," he said.

"And how do you know that?" she asked, propping her hands on her hips.

"We did them at my old school. They took off running when I got close, got hurt in the tethers."

"Huh," Sidewinder said. "All right, then."

Following Animal Care was Plants, taught by Bella Donna, the short Chinese woman who had given him his schedule. The seven of them were doing mandrakes today, prepping them for the younger years to transplant. Sam was uncomfortably reminded of his second year, when they'd been necessary to un-Petrify the other students. The greenhouse vanished around him, and pain shot up his leg - _Not real_ , he told himself firmly, _not real._

Someone bumped into his elbow, bringing him back to the present. He hastily put the mandrake back in the pot and shoveled dirt in around it.

Then came PE, the largest class Sam had yet - nearly fifty people, including the triplets. Runner stood in front of them, wearing black shorts and a muscle shirt instead of robes, and announced that they'd be following the same format as they always had been - whatever that meant.

They began by running five laps around the track, which he claimed was a mile. Sam did the distance easily - he ran four times this length before breakfast, this was _nothing_. Then Runner led them through stretches, push-ups, chin-ups, crunches, squats, and jumping jacks before pulling out a bag of balls and telling them it was time for soccer.

After class ended, Sam hurried back to the dorm to shower. The other three had the same idea, and so the bathroom was crowded before dinner.

The rest of the semester passed similarly. He got up, went to class, helped his classmates where he could, did homework, dealt with whatever visions came up, and spent his free time talking and laughing with Emily, Donovan, and Rebecca. He went to the library every night to do homework and look up potions and spells they weren't taught in class but which would probably be useful. He talked to Adam, who slowly thawed over the long weeks of September. Halfway through October, things were back to normal between them. Sam wrote Kate and told her that he'd had to tell Adam what John did. She sent back a missive wishing him well.

On October 17, he was greeted at breakfast with a newspaper headline reading _Terrorist Group Grows_.

"What's that?" he asked Emily, nodding to her newspaper.

"The AMBL bombed a Muggle mall," Emily told him.

"AMBL?"

"Anti-Muggle-Born League," she said. "It's so stupid. These assholes think purebloods are so great, so they go around killing Muggles and Muggle-borns."

"It's over here, too?" Sam asked, a sick feeling spreading through his stomach.

"Yeah," Emily said gloomily. "They don't hit magic targets very often, 'cause they keep getting their asses kicked when they do, but they'll go after Muggles."

As Halloween approached, the school was slowly decorated in orange and black until Sam was thoroughly sick of the colors. They moved on to Quidditch in gym class - Sam always played Keeper - and the first inter-dorm Quidditch match of the year took place. In Spell Design, he settled on designing a charm that could repel bugs. Defense class continued to be about dueling, and Sman continued to pick on Sam, demonstrating every new spell on him. A newspaper article written on the thirtieth mentioned an uptick in dementor activity and breeding and the AMBL putting out a manifesto and threatening to increase its activities unless all Muggle-borns were expelled from all schools.

The news about AMBL and the dementors didn't concern him until it did. Sam was on edge all day on Halloween, four years of experience telling him that _something_ was going to go wrong, and go wrong it did, in the worst possible way. They'd just left the PE building when a horribly familiar cold swept over him.

 _No,_ he thought, _no, not here - how can they be **here?**_

 _"Expecto patronum,"_ he said, focusing on the thought of Lianne and Christina, and a silver wolverine leapt from his wand. Sam looked around - there were a good twenty dementors bearing down on them.

"RUN!" Sam bellowed, shoving his classmates, who were frozen in fear. They shook themselves and took off toward the building.

A bear joined his wolverine, swiping at the dementors. Sam glanced to his side to see Runner standing there, wand out.

"We should get to the main building," Sam said. "Gather them in the dining hall."

Runner shook his head. "Too many windows. This could be the first wave of attack - if that's true, we need somewhere defensible. Get everyone down to the basement, maybe the dorm down there, or the potions room." 

Sam started backing up, concentration split neatly between the conversation and the Patronus Charm. "You think that's what this is?"

"I think it might be. Dementors don't group together like this without orders." Runner backed up with him. "When we get to the greenhouse, make sure everyone's out."

"Yessir," Sam said automatically.

Two Patroni weren't enough to dispel the mass of dementors. They could slow the group down, but they couldn't make it break apart. Sam nipped into the greenhouse to find Donna working with Devil's Snare. Sam waited until she'd put it down to say, "There are dementors attacking. Come on - we need to get inside."

Bless her, Donna didn't argue. She followed him out and cast a Patronus of her own, a tiger. It sprinted toward the dementors to help keep them back. Sam's own had faded while he was inside, and he recast.

"Took you long enough," Runner joked weakly, sweat pouring down his face.

"Are there any other classes outside this hour?"

"No," Donna answered. "Let's just get inside."

The three of them backed up, keeping a wary eye on the dementors, steadying each other when one of them tripped on a tree root.

Something green shot up from behind the dementors, and a Shield Charm was on Sam's lips when it exploded into the Dark Mark.

" _Fuck,_ " he said vehemently. "Think these are real Death Eaters, or are they just borrowing the symbol?"

"Borrowing, probably," Runner said. He glanced back - they were ten yards from the stairs. "Sam, you go up first, then Bella. I'll come up last."

They both nodded, and when they reached the stairs, Sam dashed up. Donna and Runner followed; Runner opened the door and motioned them both through. The second all three of them were in and the door closed, their Patroni evaporated.

 _"Claudostium,_ " Runner said firmly. The wooden door melted into stone.

"There's one entrance down," Donna said.

"Who are they?" a small, scared voice asked.

"Dementors," Sam said, turning around. Adam was looking up at him with wide eyes.

"There are some witches and wizards, too," Donna said, peering through the door.

"Why?" one of the other kids asked.

"Because people suck," Sam said bluntly.

Runner took charge. "All of you, down to the basement," he ordered. "Where's Redcliffe?"

"Here," she said, hurrying down the stairs. "I've sent the students to their dormitories."

"Better they go to the basement," Sman said, appearing at the top of the passage to the library. The younger students split around him to get downstairs to their dorm. "More easily defended."

"They've put up the Dark Mark," Runner said.

"Are they Brits or Americans?"

"No idea," Runner said.

"I might be able to find out," Sam said, pulling the mirror from his pocket. "Remus Lupin!"

A second later, Bill Weasley's face filled the screen. "Hiya, Sam. Sorry, Remus's out, whatcha need?"

"Do you know if the Death Eaters are in America?" he asked without preamble.

Bill blinked. "What? Why would they-"

"Dark Mark's appeared," Sam interrupted. "Dementors and some wizards. At the school."

"Shit. Lemme ask." Bill ducked out of frame.

"What's that?" Sman asked.

"Mirror. Tied directly to the resistance movement in England." Sam half-smiled. "The other one's owned by an old Defense professor - hang on, where'd Redcliffe go?"

"To get the students downstairs," Sman said. "Set the older ones to defense."

Before Sam could answer, Shacklebolt appeared. "Winchester," he said, deep voice rumbling, "how are you always in the center of everything?"

"I'm lucky like that," he said dryly, drawing a laugh. "Has Vol- sorry, You-Know-Who got followers over here, then? Or is this its own bit of fun?"

"From what we know, it's its own sect," Shacklebolt said somberly. "Do you need backup?"

Sam looked up at Sman. "How many fighters here, and is there anyone coming from the Ministry?"

"Floo's down," he said. "We're alone here. Five teachers able to fight, and you, if you're up for it."

Sam looked down at the mirror. "Did you catch that?"

"Yes. I'll send Sirius and the Weasleys over."

"Thanks," Sam said.

"Don't die," Shacklebolt told him.

The mirror clouded over again.

"Okay, we've got another" - Sam did a quick count - "five to seven on their way. That should be enough."

"Who's the five to seven?" Furter asked, hurrying down the stairs. Sampson was next to him.

"Brit resistance to Voldemort," Sam said briskly. "One of them was at the Ministry mess last June."

There was a flash of light. "Hello," Sirius said cheerfully. "Lovely day for a fight, don't you think?"

"Hey, Sirius," Sam said, grinning at him. "Bill, Charlie, Fred, George."

"Dad wishes he could come," Bill said, "but he's all tied up...something about exploding toilets in Bethnal Green again…."

Sam nodded. "Students are downstairs or on their way there," he said. "Twenty dementors, unknown number of wizards outside."

A jet of red light arced from nowhere to hit Sirius in the arm. He fell.

Sam cast a Shield Charm and looked for his opponents. They were streaming out of the dining hall, all masked, all in green.

No more time for talking, then. " _Ennervate!_ " Sam snapped, pointing his wand at Sirius. " _Praemunio!_ "

"Whazzat?" Sirius mumbled.

Sam's One-Way Shield buckled and failed under three simultaneous curses. A Cutting Curse sliced open Sam's left bicep.

"You got Stunned," Sam said, casting another shield. "C'mon, up you get, time to fight."

"Course," Sirius said, rolling to his feet.

There was no more time to talk - five people in green were bearing down on them. Sirius cast a shield of his own, and then they were dueling, purple Cutting Curses and red Stunners mixing with green Killing Curses and blue Cruciatuses. Sam ducked, blocked, and cast Cutting Curses of his own, which were blocked or dodged.

Somebody screamed, and Sam glanced over. There were a bunch of students standing at the top of the steps, faces frozen in masks of horror and fear.

"Fuck," he snarled, dodging another Cutting Curse. "Sirius, if I go to shielding, can you do - _praemunio!_ \- offense only for a few minutes?"

"Yep," Sirius said.

Working together like that, they took down three of their opponents. Sirius said, "I got the one on the right."

"Course," Sam said, focusing on the one to his left. He cast a One-Way Shield, three Stunners, and a Cutting Curse in quick order. The witch blocked two of the Stunners; her shield failed under the third. His Cutting Curse neatly decapitated her.

"Get back upstairs," somebody roared, and Sam looked back over. Two students were unconscious, falling down the stairs.

"Go!" Sirius barked at him, and he ran, considering and casting aside spell as he went. He Stunned one of the men in green in the back as he went, freeing Sman to take out the other one he was dueling with. Sampson and Furter were both down. Fred and George were fighting together, six on two, and Sam bound one of them. Not expecting it, the people to either side of him faltered, and Fred and George took them down.

He got to the stairs just as another Stunner was cast up it, and he deflected it. "Run!" he yelled to the students at the top, turning to face the battle once more.

Seven people in green robes converged on him, and he knew he couldn't fight all of them at once. Not like this, anyway. He cast a Layered Shield and blocked out the world, focusing deep inside, and felt himself change.

He opened his eyes to a red, fishbowl world and leaped, ripping out the throat of the one closest to him. He'd marked their positions in his mind's eye, and so he knew where they were now; he didn't need to worry about accidentally killing his own allies.

Two throats later, something hit his side, and he snarled and leapt to the caster. The surrounding wizards broke and ran. Sam leapt to the foot of the stairs and focused, bringing himself back to human. His wand dropped to the floor, and he ducked to grab it.

Three wizards and a witch in green robes lay before him, sightless eyes staring at the ceiling. There was a long gash running down Sam's side, and he pressed his left hand to it and cast at the backs of the three running away.

Someone grabbed him by the neck. Sam broke the grip and turned, spell on his lips. He let it die when he saw Sman standing there, hands up. "What was that?" he yelled over the crack of spells.

"Animagus form," Sam yelled back, turning to face the rest of them.

"You're hurt."

"Yep." Sam disarmed one of the people dueling with Sampson. She bound and Stunned him and moved on to the next opponent.

"You're insane," Sman said flatly.

"Possibly," Sam agreed easily. He glanced up the stairs behind him - they were clear. "Everyone up?"

"Sent them to the History classroom," Sman said, Stunning a man in green who was running toward Donna. "You should sit down."

"I've had worse," Sam said flatly.

"We're almost done here," Sman pointed out.

He was right. Fred and George had teamed up with Bill against two in green; Sirius finished his own opponent as Sam watched; Donna, Sampson, and Furter were clumped together, watching as the fight came to an end. Charlie was bending over somebody, tapping them with his wand. Runner sat up and spoke quietly.

"Sit," Sman said firmly, pushing him down to sit on the bottom step.

"The dementors?" Sam asked, resisting.

"Gone."

"Okay," Sam said, and sat heavily.

One of the twins cackled, and Sam looked back at them. Both their opponents were bound head to foot.

"Did anyone run?" Bill called, sweeping the room.

"No," Sampson answered, "this is all of them."

"Is anyone else hurt?" Sman asked.

Sirius limped over. "Bastard got my ankle. You all right, Sam?"

"It's not deep," Sam said dismissively.

"Sit down, Sirius, I'll fix that for you," Charlie said.

"Thanks," Sirius said, taking a seat next to Sam. "I see you haven't lost your touch."

"Nope," Sam said grimly, brushing hair out of his face.

Charlie knelt and pulled Sirius's pant leg up. "This is deep," he said, touching his wand to the skin and murmuring something Sam couldn't quite catch. Before their eyes the skin healed.

"Thanks," Sirius said.

"Walk a few steps," Charlie said, sitting back on his heels.

Sirius grumbled, but did as he was told.

"All right, you're good. Sam, lemme see you."

Sam fumbled with his clothing until he could pull his undershirt up to expose the wound. Charlie touched his wand and muttered, _"Epoulothoun._ " The skin on Sam's side wiggled and closed; it was a decidedly odd sensation. "Anyone else?" he called.

"Twisted my knee," Sampson said, "but I'll be all right."

"Is the Floo back up, does anyone know?" Runner asked. His face was a kaleidoscope of bruises. Looking around, Sam saw everyone had similar injuries, their robes marked with soot and tears where spells had gone through. Sam checked his arm to see the cut he'd gotten at the very beginning of the fight had clotted.

Fred pulled a small container of something from his pocket. "Bruise healer," he said, offering it around.

"Thanks," Donna said, dabbing some on her black eye.

Exhaustion crashed over Sam now that the adrenaline was gone. He smothered a yawn and got to his feet as Redcliffe appeared at the top of the basement steps. "Well!" she said. "The worst is over?"

"Looks like," Sman said. "All that's left is to get law enforcement involved and to clean up."

"Who did the dead ones?" Redcliffe asked briskly.

"I did a couple of them," Sam said, looking around and counting.

"I killed a few, too," Sman said.

Fred and George both raised their hands. Sampson and Furter shook their heads. Donna, Runner, Bill, Charlie, and Sirius did nothing.

"This is going to be a mess of paperwork," Redcliffe muttered. "I'll contact the Ministry. If you're in the country illegally, it might be a good time to leave," she said pointedly to the Brits.

Charlie winced. "Guess we'll be going, then."

"Take care, Sam," Sirius said.

"This happens again, you call us," Bill added firmly.

"Bye-bye now," Fred said with an overdone bow.

"Make some trouble," George added with a wink.

Sirius pulled a spoked ship's wheel from his robes. "Everyone ready?" he asked. They put hands on the wheel, and a breath later they were gone.

Law enforcement first took the bound or unconscious green-robed bodies away, then returned for the corpses. As expected, the Ministry had a lot of questions. Sman gave his statement first, and Sam listened closely. He didn't give away Sam's Animagus form, so when it came time to answer questions, Sam didn't mention it, instead claiming Cutting Curses had done for the four at the bottom of the stairs.

"Don't you think that was a little overkill?" the woman interviewing him asked.

"There were about thirty people at the top of the stairs and seven of them coming at me," Sam told her bluntly. "There's no such thing as overkill when it's seven-on-one and I've got that many kids at my back."

She accepted that response and moved on. It was close to nine o'clock by the time they were done.

"You should get to bed," Sman told him. "All the other students have gone back to their dormitories….Redcliffe sent food there instead of to the dining hall tonight."

Sam sighed. "After I talk to Adam," he said. "Kid's probably terrified."

Sman nodded. "Fair enough. Just try to get to sleep before it's too late."

"You too," Sam said, and took the stairs down to the basement.

"Sam!" Adam cried when he opened the door to Dorm A. He threw himself at his older brother, and Sam caught him.

"Adam," he breathed, hugging him tight. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine - is that _blood?_ "

"Yes," Sam said simply.

"Yours?"

"Some of it," Sam said. "Mostly others', though. Hang on, I'll get rid of it." He pulled his wand out and muttered a hasty Skurge Charm.

"What was it like?" someone asked eagerly.

"What?" Sam looked for the speaker.

A fourteen-year-old boy stepped forward, eyes wide with excitement. "What was it like? Was it fun?"

Sam frowned at him. "I left seven people dead up there," he said. "The rest of them are looking at life in prison. There is _nothing_ fun about fighting."

"So why do you do it?" Adam asked, looking up at him.

"So you don't have to," Sam told him, ruffling his hair. "Now go on - get to bed. There's classes tomorrow."


	3. Chapter 3

In the aftermath of Halloween, Sam reached status previously unknown to him. People were eager to talk to him, and even more eager to ask him about the fight. Sam sealed his lips shut on the topic and kept to Emily, Rebecca, Keisha, and Donovan. John, Louis, and Frank, who shared his dormitory, wanted details, and Sam was hard-pressed to keep anything to himself. Sman lightened up on him and started picking other people to demonstrate spells on. Furter tried to convince him to join the Animagus group; Sam declined, claiming he needed to focus on classwork; he wasn't sure Furter knew he already _had_ an Animagus form. The visions continued, though thankfully without sending him into any more seizures.

By Thanksgiving, most of the extra attention had settled away into rumors of who was dating whom and why so-and-so had detention. Sam relaxed and focused on his homework, usually joined by Rebecca, Emily, Donovan, and Keisha. Adam found him in the library and begged for help with the Levitation Charm, and Sam spent a few hours teaching it to him.

Christmas break came. It was shorter than Hogwarts', lasting only from the twenty-third to the second, but Sam could live with that. He and Adam were going back to Kate - unlike Hogwarts, students weren't allowed to spend the break at school.

All the teachers were press-ganged into taking students back. Sam and Adam were assigned to Professor Tychi, the diminutive Fortune-Telling professor. He took them back and left hurriedly.

"Adam!" Kate said happily when she saw him. She pulled him into a strangling hug. "And Sam! It's so nice to have you back!" She gave Sam a hug, too.

He returned it. "It's nice to be back, Kate," he said.

They fell into the rhythm they'd established over the summer. Kate was still on nights, and since it was break Adam didn't need to be up at a specific time. Sam made sure dinner was ready for him when he came back in and breakfast was ready for Kate before she went out at night, and vice versa in the mornings. More than once Adam brought a friend over and they wore out their thumbs playing Mario on the Super Nintendo. They decorated the tree on Kate's night off, and it was the first time Sam had ever been involved in Christmas preparations.

On Christmas morning, Sam got Adam up fairly early and went downstairs when Kate got home. She didn't work Christmas night, so she could stay up a little later, but even so, nine would be pushing it. They opened presents; Sam got a new sweater and gloves from Kate. Adam got a Nintendo 64 and was over the moon. Once Kate went to bed, he begged Sam to play with him, and they spent several hours Super Mario. Around noon they broke for sandwiches, and Adam went back out to the living room to keep going while Sam fumbled with the turkey.

It was dry, bland, and overcooked when it came out, but the gravy and mashed potatoes both came from boxes, so he couldn't mess those up. The stuffing was crunchier than he would have liked, but Kate assured him it was pretty good for a first attempt and told him to just add more chicken broth next time.

Adam slept late the next day, but by noon he'd run out to a friend's house and they'd returned to play video games all day. Sam kept out of their way, tackling the mountain of homework he'd put off.

The rest of break passed in much the same way, with Sam writing essays and looking up spells and trying to finish the energy balance for his big-repellant spell while Adam lazed with his friends and Kate slept and worked. Sam woke one night, the image of pulling a much older Adam into a bottomless pit with his own two hands seared into his retinas, and had to scramble to get to the bathroom before he got sick.

The end of December brought with it an assortment of drunks, abusers, and stupid teenagers; Kate dragged herself home each morning with an air of utter exhaustion and barely managed to shower and eat before she fell into bed. On the second, Sam and Adam were both up early enough to say goodbye before she went to sleep.

Tychi showed up for them at 4:37 on the nose, and Sam shouldered both their duffels and endured the Portkey trip back.

Sam's homework came back perfectly fine - with the exception of his Spell Design. He'd miscarried a numeral early on, making the equations he'd slaved over worthless. He'd have to redo all of it.

On January 17, Sam left his room after showering - PE had been particularly nasty that day, even by his standards - and was cornered by Emily. "So - uh-"

"What's up?" he asked.

"I was wondering if maybe you'd like to - to go to the dance with me?"

Sam blinked at her. "Dance? What dance?"

She giggled. "The Valentine's dance. Runner told us about it at the end of class, remember?"

Truth be told, all Sam remembered of the end of PE was a ringing head following getting nailed by a dodgeball and un-breaking his nose with a spell he'd learned in Charms the day before. "Right," he said anyway. "And - um - you want to go? With _me?_ "

"Mm-hmm," she said, beaming up at him.

Sam looked at her. She was pretty, yes, but she was also one of his best friends. He knew her well enough to know that this was a proposition for a _date_ \- not a friend-date, but a _date_ -date. Sam had never been on a _date_ -date, but he was sixteen, and he liked her well enough, and she was kind to both Sam and Adam.

"Sure," he said, smiling back down at her. "I'd love to."

She squealed and threw her arms around his neck. He laughed and hugged her back, getting a faceful of-

"Is that honeysuckle?" he asked.

"My shampoo, yeah," she said, breaking down into giggles.

"It's nice," he said. "I remember, I was maybe seven or eight, and we stayed at a friend's church for a week. Pastor Jim. He had wild honeysuckle all along the property line. My brother and I made ourselves sick with it."

"Adam ate honeysuckle?" she asked, pulling back.

"No, my - my other brother. Dean. He's older. Still a hunter."

"Oh." Emily bit her lip. "Do you still talk to him?"

Sam shook his head. "Anyway. Dinner?" He half-smiled.

"Of course," she said, taking his hand and leading him out.

Apparently, agreeing to go to the dance with her made them already-dating, as far as Emily was concerned. Sam wasn't too bothered by the thought. They still hung out with Rebecca and Donovan, but they'd also taken to walking around the school at night. Sam enjoyed spending time with just her, and about a week in, he started seriously considering that dating her might be a good thing. Theo and Millie were thousands of miles away, wrapped up in each other, but Emily was here, nice, smart, charming, sweet, affectionate, and actually _interested_ in him. Sam found himself getting just as interested in her.

Two weeks after she asked him, as they sat doing homework, she leaned over and kissed him.

This led to quite a lot more kissing; Sam was a quick study. After a certain point, though, he had to excuse himself to the bathroom, and when he came back, she was focused on her homework once more.

They kissed a lot more after that - in the halls, during meals, while studying, usually pecks, occasionally tongues, never for longer than a few minutes - and each and every one of them went into Sam's mental bin marked 'good memories'.

A few days before the dance, Pascal called him into his office after dinner. At some point, Sam had forgotten he was the Head of Dorm F, but now the knowledge came crashing back.

"Sit," Pascal ordered him in his wheezy, reedy voice, pointing at a chair in front of his desk with his cane. When Sam had, he said, "It's come to my attention you haven't been properly told what will happen at the end of this year."

"Sir?" Sam asked.

"You are in your final year of all the classes you have chosen to take," Pascal said, translucent chins wobbling. "There are nationally-mandated tests you must take. Socially, you are a twelfth-semester student. You turn seventeen in May, and the school's obligation to you ends when you turn eighteen."

"Yes, sir," Sam said.

"Therefore, I must undergo career consultation with you and help you decide the university you wish to attend."

"University?" Sam blurted. "There are wizard colleges?"

"Yes," Pascal said. "Perhaps not in England, but here...what are your career designs?"

"I was thinking maybe law enforcement," he said.

Pascal scribbled something down and pulled out a thick sheaf of paper. "Application deadline for Law Academy is next week. Be sure you return these to me by then."

"Yes, sir," Sam said automatically, accepting the heavy stack. The header told him the school was in Kansas.

"Be advised that if you are not accepted, you will need to spend an extra year here," Pascal said. "We cannot allow underage wizards to be unsupervised."

"Yes, sir," Sam said. He had no idea what was going on, but Pascal was frowning at him like he was responsible for all the world's ills. "I'll just...get started on this, then."

"See that you do," Pascal said severely.

Sam escaped the office and hurried back up to the dormitory, taking his normal place next to Emily. "Well?" she asked, leaning into his shoulder.

"I have a week to fill out an application to Law Academy," Sam said dully. "I didn't realize there were universities."

"Of course there are!" Rebecca said. "What, there aren't any in England?"

"Not that I know of," Sam said. "It's Hogwarts and then the real world."

"Huh," Emily said, kissing his cheek. "Well, you won't be alone, at least. Keisha's going there, too."

"Really?" Sam asked.

"Yep. Got accepted at the end of last year. She's going for the law track, what about you?"

"Law enforcement." Sam pulled out a pen. "I should probably start this."

"Probably," she agreed, pulling away and opening her Charms textbook.

Valentine's Day was on a Sunday that year. Sam entertained his friends over breakfast with tales of Lockhart's poorly-planned 'singing valentines', and of Harry Potter being tackled round the knees to be sung to.

"I can't believe you had Lockhart as a teacher," Rebecca sighed. "That must've been _awesome._ "

"Yeah, not so much," Sam said. "Lockhart's a moron. Wouldn't be surprised if his books were entirely fiction, honestly. And a coward, too, ran off when I told him where the basilisk was."

"Basilisk?" Donovan asked blankly.

"I haven't told you this story yet?" Sam asked, surprised, and launched into the tale of his second year. It was now far enough removed from his memory that he could laugh at his stupidity and recognize how amazingly lucky he had been. He even pulled up his pants leg up above his knee so they could see the scar for themselves.

"Wow," Emily said, ghosting her fingers over the puckered skin. The muscle quivered under his touch, and he blushed, suddenly wondering if her hand would go any higher-

He shoved that thought from his mind.

"How about we go for a walk?" he asked quickly.

"I have plans today," she said mischievously.

He grinned at her. "What kind of plans?"

"I'll show you," she said, standing and pulling him up with her. 

"Be good, you two," Donovan shouted after them. Both Sam and Emily flipped him off without looking back.

They ended up in an empty second-floor supply room, and she pushed him back against the wall and kissed him deep. He returned the kiss with interest for a few minutes before she broke away, pointed her wand at the door, and muttered, _"Colloportus."_ There was a nasty squelching sound, and she turned back to him, gripped his hand, and placed it on her breast.

Sam swallowed hard and willed himself not to get too excited, but when she leaned in for another kiss, all thought floated away. They didn't go any further than touching over their clothes, but they sure as hell enjoyed themselves until the bell rang to call them to lunch.

They broke apart, breathing heavily. "I like your plans," Sam said.

Emily laughed breathlessly. "I would hope so. Lunch?"

"You go ahead," Sam said. "I need to make a pit stop."

"Okay then." She kissed him one last time before she unsealed the door and they left the room, joining the hundred or so other students all making their way to the dining hall. Sam ducked into the bathroom for a few minutes before he hurried downstairs.

"So. What else have you done?" Donovan asked him. "There was a basilisk your fourth semester - any other excitement?"

"Not really," Sam said.

_Somebody Sam didn't know was running through the woods, terror written all over her face. She was fast, almost inhumanly so._

_Hounds' braying cut through the night, and she ran faster, splashing across a stream. Sam knew how this would end, and he wasn't surprised when the dogs caught up to her and ripped her apart._

"Sam?" Emily said quietly. "How bad?"

"Ungh," Sam said, coming back to himself. The pounding in his head was matched by the roaring in his ears; he could feel his nose bleeding, but couldn't for the life of him remember what he was supposed to do to stop it. Every inch of him hurt, even his hair.

"Bad, then," Donovan said. Somebody pressed a wad of napkins to his nose and levered him up. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

Sam followed the tugging on his arm blindly, panting shallowly and holding on to consciousness by a thread. He didn't know how long it took for his vision to return, but lunch was long over by the time he felt well enough to leave the bathroom. Donovan helped him upstairs and dropped him unceremoniously onto a couch. "Wait here," he ordered.

"Yeah, okay," Sam mumbled, closing his eyes. A nap sounded really, _really_ good right about now.

Donovan shook him awake at five-thirty. "Dance is in an hour," he told Sam, passing him a potion bottle. "Painkiller mixed with Pepper-Up."

"Thanks," Sam said, and drained it. A moment of unbearable pressure against his head, and then steam shot out of his ears. "Wait - the dance is in an _hour?_ "

"Yep," Donovan said. "You should go change."

Sam scurried to his room and pulled out the Muggle suit he'd transfigured from his dress robes. A few spells and they were back to their original bottle-green color and shape.

John did a double-take. " _Green?_ Don't you think that's kind of…."

"Inappropriate?" Louis finished.

Sam frowned. "Why?"

"AMBL ringing a bell?" Frank asked.

"Oh, shit."

"Oh, shit is right."

"What - uh - what color would be good?" Sam asked, faintly pleading. "I still need to let them down a foot, I completely blanked that I'd need them tonight."

Louis narrowed his eyes at him and tilted his head. "Purple," he said at last. "Dark, none of that lavender shit."

Sam muttered a hasty Color-Change Charm. "Better?"

"Much."

Sam stripped down to his underwear and threw the clothes on. They hung halfway down his calves; a quick Lengthening Charm and they grew to reach his feet. He cast an Undetectable Expansion Charm on his pockets and slipped in the mirror. He hated leaving it behind, knowing that if he or the Order needed help this was the fastest way to contact each other.

Then he ducked into the bathroom and attempted to do _something_ with his hair. Why hadn't he gotten it cut over the break?

Louis slid into the spot next to him and plopped down a tub of hair gel, which he used to style his own hair. Sam gave up at quarter after six and instead went to the main room to wait for Emily.

She came through the door to the girls' rooms not long after he sat down to wait for her. He stood to greet her. "You look amazing," he said, kissing her cheek. She was wearing bloodred robes perfectly tailored to her form, and her hair was artfully piled on top of her head and held in place with garnet-tipped pins and combs. She'd done some trick with make-up, an annoyance she usually didn't bother with, to make her eyes look larger than normal.

"Thanks," she said, blushing. "So do you."

He offered his arm. "Shall we?"

She giggled and placed a hand in the crook of his elbow. "We shall," she said with as much dignity as she could muster.

That night was one of the best Sam had ever had. Emily was in her element, laughing and teasing and flirting shamelessly with him. He felt like a clumsy ox next to her graceful beauty, but once she'd shown him how to two-step a time or six he started to get the hang of it. That was the only dance they did all night, even to the Weird Sisters' newest hit.

Donovan pulled them aside for a few minutes to get a picture and promised a copy to each of them before bopping off to get Rebecca and Louis. Frank had come with a boy Sam vaguely recognized from their gym class; Keisha was there with Samantha, with whom he had Animal Care; John was waltzing with Lisa from his Potions class. More people Sam knew were there, in couples or alone, talking or dancing as the mood struck.

At midnight, Emily pulled him outside to the rose garden that had been specially created just for the dance and kissed him breathless as the clock struck twelve. Not long after, the teachers came to usher them to bed. They kissed once more in the common room, then parted. Sam fell asleep that night with the taste of her on his lips.


	4. Chapter 4

After that night, Sam and Emily were inseparable except for classes. She told him all about her family - two younger sisters, both magic, one in her second semester and the other waiting to attend the year after next; her mother the doctor and her father the surgeon, who had met at the hospital; her aunt and uncle the childless taxidermists - her hobbies, her career goals (Healer, the school for which was also in Kansas), stories from earlier semesters. Sam told her about Lianne and Christina, the Weasleys, Harry Potter (she was in awe that he knew him), and Hermione Granger; the House system at Hogwarts; and his friends in England. He even showed her the drawings Crabbe had given him.

At the beginning of March came the sex ed unit in gym class. Emily had been right at the beginning of the year: seeing Runner stammer his way through a discussion of contraceptive spells, STDs, and abstinence was easily the funniest thing of Sam's year.

At the same time, they began the Patronus Charm. Sam spent most of his time helping the people around him and conjuring his wolverine on request. When asked about his memory, Sam told them all about his guardians in Britain. By the end of the month, the entire class was reliably producing mist. Sam tried to cast his Patronus nonverbally and failed dismally.

April began rainy and dreary, but with good news - the American Ministry had conducted a major assault on the AMBL and had taken nearly seventy wizards and witches into custody. "We believe this is the main body of the group and includes their entire command structure," a spokesman said. "With these arrests, the Anti-Muggle-Born League will collapse."

"Fantastic!" Emily said, beaming.

Sam didn't share the Ministry's optimism. They may have taken out the command structure, but the League would continue, of that he was sure. People didn't give up bigotry because something changed, at least not in the Muggle world, and wizards weren't nearly different enough for the AMBL to die out.

Near the middle of April, Emily pulled him into what Sam had quickly come to think of as 'their' supply room. He put his hands around her waist after she'd sealed the door, and for a few minutes, they kissed.

Then she pulled back and slowly unbuttoned her shirt.

He grabbed her wrists. "What are you doing?" he asked, and he would deny both the pitch of his voice and the crack in it until the day he died.

"I'm getting tired of waiting for you make a move," she said, pulling out of his hold easily. He hadn't been gripping her hard, just tightly enough she knew his hands were there.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "You don't have to."

"I'm sure," she said, undoing another button. "Oh, fuck it," she said, and pulled it off over her head, revealing a very attractive bra made of dark-blue lace holding up even more attractive-

Sam swallowed, face heating.

"Are _you_ uncomfortable with this?" she asked suddenly.

"No, no, it's just - I didn't - _expect_ this so soon, I suppose."

"We've been dating two months!" she said, giggling. Her chest bounced. "Now" - she moved closer - "let's see what you've been hiding, hmm?"

"Okay," Sam said after a second, brain now completely on board with this new plan. He swooped down to kiss her and shucked off his outer robe in the same motion. Their hands both fumbled with his shirt buttons, inducing laughter from the both of them. "I swear I'm usually better at this," he said.

"You'd better be."

At last, at last his shirt was open. He shrugged it off impatiently and brought his arms back to cup Emily's face.

After a minute or so of more kissing, Emily opened her eyes. "Let me look at you," she whispered, taking two steps back.

Her face crumpled. "Sam?"

"What? What's wrong?" Sam asked, looking down. He looked like he normally did, ribs visible where muscle didn’t cover. "Is there a scorpion or something I can't see?"

Emily reached out to trace his side, hand shaking. He caught it. "Emily, baby, talk to me," he said, reaching out with his other hand to tilt her chin up. "What's wrong?"

"You're so skinny," she said, eyes watering.

Sam glanced down, confused. "Okay? Is that a problem?"

"This isn't healthy, Sam," she said quietly.

Sam blinked down at her, still kiss-stupid, trying to get his mind to change gears. "What do you-"

"It's not healthy," she repeated. "You eat half a piece of toast for breakfast. A quarter-plate of salad for lunch. Half a piece of chicken and a few bites of corn or spinach for dinner. And I _know_ you work out every morning."

Sam frowned. "You've put thought into this?"

She sighed. "I thought - I did want to go further with you. This wasn't a trick," she said. "But I've seen you eat, and it's not enough for a child. Sam, _why?_ " Her voice broke, and she started crying.

Sam wrapped her in a hug and kissed the top of her head. "I'm just - I'm not hungry," he said quietly. "I'm never hungry. And I _like_ salad and vegetables and chicken. It doesn't take much to fill me up, and I don't eat more than I need."

She shook her head. "You don’t eat enough," she said, voice muffled.

"I'll eat more, okay?" he said quietly, desperate to make her feel better. "You can load up my plate yourself, if it makes you feel better."

"So this isn't - it's not on purpose?"

"No!" he said, bemused. "I'm just - I don't know. I don’t think about it. I eat until I'm full and then I stop."

She looked up at him. "You're not - not restricting, or-"

"No," he said gently, remembering Runner bringing up the term in connection with eating disorders. "This is just me. But dinner tonight, load it up, and I'll eat as much as I can, okay?"

"Okay," she said, leaning up to kiss him chastely. 

She sniffled, and Sam said, "How about we go back to the dorm? I have a deck of Exploding Snap."

"You're on," she said with a watery smile.

They spent the afternoon playing cards, and at dinner she took him at his word, forking two thick slices of meatloaf and a large serving of mashed potatoes on his plate and promptly drizzling it all with brown gravy. Sam put carrots on the plate himself and ate those first, ignoring his friends' jokes about her filling his plate for him.

The first taste of meatloaf almost made him gag. It was just so _salty._ Still, he'd promised Emily, so he worked his way through a slice before he turned his attention to the mashed potatoes. By the time he'd gotten three spoons down, the rest of their friends had left for the library.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, swallowing hard against the overfull feeling in his stomach. "I can't - it's too much."

"That's okay," she said, putting a hand on his back. "We'll try again, okay?"

Over the next weeks, she did just that, and Sam made a few important discoveries about food:

  * Any dark cola she tried to make him drink would leave him unable to keep anything down for a day and a half , including potions meant to help, and make his stomach cramp so badly he couldn't get out of bed for the pain. 
  * Beef made him feel slow and bloated the day after he ate it. 
  * Pork gave him an incredible amount of energy. 
  * Vietnamese pumpkin soup was incredibly sweet and incredibly good. 



Eating more gave him more energy than he knew what to do with, so he added a workout routine at the end of the day. Emily joined him for these, as did Keisha, who claimed it would be good training for Law Academy. Even though she was going for the lawyer certification, the physical requirements were in place for all graduates.

His seventeenth birthday came. His friends threw an impromptu party for him, including a cake. Sam laughed and joked and turned the conversation around and just generally enjoyed himself.

Emily followed him into his room. "So," she said, "I know for a _fact_ that all of your roommates are otherwise engaged for the night."

"Is that so?" Sam asked, a small bubble of panicked hope rising in his chest.

"It is," she said, and closed the distance between them.  
***  
May flew by. They didn't get the chance to spend the night together again, but Sam was happy with that one night and wasn't going to push for a rushed encounter in the uncomfortable supply room. Besides, their Exit Exams were coming up, looming at the end of June, and they were all forced to spend most of their energy on studying and quizzing each other.

On the twenty-second, he got a letter at breakfast. He opened it, curious, to find a familiar slanting hand.

_Dear Mr. Winchester,  
The appeal I made to the Board of Governors on your account has been approved, and your expulsion overturned. Find enclosed the documents certifying this.  
The choice to remain at Salem Witch's Institute or to return to Hogwarts is, of course, yours to make. Return your decision to me no later than July 31.  
Best,  
Albus PWB Dumbledore, Headmaster_

Sam stared down at the letter. He hadn't given thought to the appeal in months, hadn't even considered the possibility his expulsion would be overturned.

"Sam?" Rebecca prompted. "Who's it from?"

"My old Headmaster," Sam said, face numb. "My expulsion's been overturned. I can go back to England."

"Are you going to?" Emily asked.

Sam turned to look at her. "I - I need to think," he said quietly.

She nodded, hurt in her eyes but nowhere else on her face. "Take the time you need," she said calmly.

He did just that, mulling over the decision. The thought of returning to Hogwarts, site of the lowest moments of his life, was not an attractive one. But the thought of seeing his friends again - Millie, Theo, Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe, even Draco and Goyle - was a light to which he was a moth. Lianne and Christina were in Britain, too, an even stronger draw.

But here, in America, he had Kate and Adam. He had friends here, and a girlfriend, and a little brother to look after and protect. Adam would be fine if he left, he knew, but _leaving_ him, and leaving Emily and Rebecca and Donovan and even Keisha….

He couldn't do it, he realized. He couldn't leave his new friends now, any more than he'd been ready to leave his Slytherin friends the year before. He'd made a life here, and he wasn't willing to lose it to go back to a place he'd never properly fit.

"I'm not going back," he said quietly to Emily a week later.

"Hmm?"

"To Hogwarts. I'm not. I'm staying here, and going to Law Academy, and - and dating you as long as you'll have me."

She turned and kissed his cheek. "Then we're going to be dating for a long time."

"I'm glad," Sam said. "I really like you."

"And I like you. I'm glad you're staying."

Studying was put to the side for the night.  
***  
Exams came nearer, bringing with them a corresponding increase in time spent studying. Sam and Emily were hard-pressed to find time to spend together. The evening routines were dropped in favor of such exciting exercises as textbook-lifting and essay-writing.

"I wear my left hand's gonna be three times the size of my right at this rate," Donovan said, rubbing out a cramp.

"It's not already?" Rebecca asked innocently, ducking the pen Donovan threw at her.

Three days before his first exam, Sam's pocket began saying his name on their way to the dormitory after dinner. Sam dropped his arm from around Emily's shoulders and pulled out the mirror. "Here," he said clearly. "You guys, go on…."

"Nope," Emily said, leaning against the wall.

Lupin's face filled the mirror. "Sam?"

"I'm here," he said. "What's going on?"

"Death Eaters are attacking Hogwarts. We need you here, and if any of your friends can fight, they'll be welcomed."

Sam swallowed. If Lupin was asking for volunteers among schoolchildren, it was _bad._ "None of my friends are good enough at dueling," he said, hating that it was the truth. "They'd get themselves killed. I'll be there in two minutes."

"Make it one, our people are taking casualties," Lupin said. The mirror went blank.

"Casualties?" Emily squeaked.

Sam kissed her hard. "I love you," he said. "Narwhal droppings!"

The last thing he saw before a hook behind his navel jerked him off his feet was her surprised face.


	5. Chapter 5

He landed in the Entrance Hall next to Lupin and Tonks, who were engaged in a duel. Sam whipped his wand out. " _Praemunio! Caesa!_ " One of the opponents dropped, throat slit, and Tonks dispatched the other.

"Thanks, Sam," Lupin said. "Came out of nowhere. We're not sure how they're getting in. Students are involved, including some of your friends - it's a mess. If they're wearing a mask, kill. If they're a student casting at you, incapacitate."

"Got it," Sam said, and raced upstairs to get to the screaming parts of the castle. He found a Death Eater pinning down Ernie MacMillan and Susan Bones just off the first-floor landing and snarled a Cutting Curse. The Death Eater's head rolled off his shoulders.

"Sam?" Susan gasped.

"Hi," Sam said shortly. "Any idea where they're getting in?"

"None," Ernie panted. "We left some of the sixth-years guarding the common room from the inside, sent the younger years to bed and put up obstacles-"

Something furry slammed into Sam's side. He bit back a yell and rolled with the momentum, twisting his wand and snarling a Blasting Curse that sent the - _thing_ , there was no other word for it - through a window. He got to his feet gracelessly - the thing's claws had punctured his arm deep. He mumbled a hurried healing spell and refocused on the screams.

Ernie and Susan followed him up to the second floor, where they found a knot of duelers in a kind of stalemate. There were too many students for the Death Eaters to pass, but too many Death Eaters for the students to overpower.

With Sam, Ernie, and Susan adding to the student's side, Death Eaters began to fall. Most of the students were casting _Incarcerous_ and similarly nonfatal spells, but Sam didn't care about their lives. He cast Cutting and Blasting Curses that severed veins or broke bones with brutal precision. His goal was not to save Death Eaters' lives, but to inflict maximum damage on their numbers.

The fight raged for what felt like hours. Sam didn't get a break, moving from hurting masked adults to healing injured students depending on the situation.

They ended up in the hallway leading to the Astronomy Tower. Order members and Hogwarts students alike battled with dozens of Death Eaters in the cramped space, made smaller by the partially-collapsed ceiling. 

Sam took a deep breath and plunged into the fray, bloody knife he'd pulled out at some point clenched tightly in his left hand, wand spelling in his right.

"IT'S OVER!" somebody screamed. "TIME TO GO!"

Next second, his shoulder was knocked, and he almost cast before recognizing Snape and Malfoy and stilling his tongue.

"Sam?" Draco called, bewildered.

Sam didn’t have time to talk - a nasty-looking red corkscrew was coming right for him. He cast a Layered Shield Charm, not stupid enough to take chances with a curse he didn't recognize. It broke through the first three layers, but broke apart itself on the fourth one. Sam cancelled the charm and cast a Blasting Curse at one of the four pinning down Shacklebolt, throwing him into his mates.

He saw Ginny dodging Cruciatus Curses and cast a Blasting Curse at the man casting them. Someone else had the same idea, and he spun like a top before he fell.

It was a mess. McGonagall, Lupin, Tonks, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were all locked in one-on-one combat, but most of the Order members or students were facing two-to-one odds or worse. Spells ricocheted everywhere. Blood pooled on the floor, some of which Sam had spilled. Neville was face-down on the ground; Harry Potter tripped over him, jinxed a blond Death Eater spelling wildly, and scrambled on, racing out of the corridor. The blond man ran, too, and Sam killed him while his back was turned. Cowardly, some would say, but all was fair in war.

Something hit him right between his shoulder blades and he was knocked off his feet to skid ten feet on his belly. He kept his hand clenched tight around his wand, flipped himself onto his back, and snarled a curse, blood he'd accidentally taken in leaving his mouth in sprayed drops. The nearest Death Eater soared out of the hole in the ceiling.

He clambered to his feet, trying not to think about the blood now weighing down his robe. The tide here was turning - more and more Death Eaters were falling, unconscious or dead. He took out three more.

Lupin looked at him, weary. "What's it like on the floor below?"

"No idea," Sam said. He glanced over - there were a dozen Order members and students, but only three Death Eaters. "Wanna find out?"

Lupin followed him downstairs. The sixth floor had burns, scuffs, blood and bodies, but nobody actively fighting. The remaining floors were much the same, all the way down to the Great Hall.

"Sam!" somebody cried. Sam turned to see all the Slytherins in his year but Draco hurrying toward him. "What happened?"

"Death Eaters," Sam said, head throbbing with adrenaline. "No, don't - I'm covered in blood. None of it's mine," he added hastily.

Millie laughed shakily. "Why are you here?"

"Lupin called me in," Sam said quietly.

There were screams from out in the grounds, and Sam turned and pelted off without saying goodbye - they would understand-

Only, nobody was fighting. Everyone was gathering around the base of the Astronomy Tower, but nobody was fighting. Most were crying and wailing.

"What is it, what happened?" Sam asked the person closest to him, but at that moment the crowd shifted and he saw the crumpled form of Albus Dumbledore at the base of the tower.

Ginny and Harry appeared. "Come on, Sam," Ginny said quietly. They were holding hands - a new development.

"Hospital wing," Ginny said when they were in the Entrance Hall.

"But I'm not-" Harry started.

"McGonagall's orders," she interrupted, and they couldn't say anything to that, so they followed her meekly.

"Who else is dead?" Harry asked.

"Don't worry, none of us," Ginny said, and something in Sam's chest loosened.

"But the Dark Mark - Malfoy said he stepped over a body-"

"He stepped over Bill, but it's all right, he's alive."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure...he's a - a bit of a mess, that's all. Greyback attacked him. Madam Pomfrey says he won't - won't look the same anymore….We don't really know what the aftereffects will be - I mean, Greyback being a werewolf, but not transformed at the time."

"But the others - there were other bodies on the ground."

There had been, too, and Sam had helped to put them there.

"Neville and Professor Flitwick are both hurt, but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right. A few Death Eaters are dead" - more than a few, Sam was pretty sure - "Harry, if we hadn't had your Felix potion, I think we'd all have been killed, but everything seemed to just miss us."

They reached the hospital wing just as the enormous clock struck two. That meant it was ten at night back at Salem; Sam needed to get back by seven in the morning, so eleven Hogwarts time-

He shut down the babbling of his brain. He would go back tonight, and he would shower, and then he would find Emily and apologize and hug her until the world was right again.

Lupin hurried toward them all as soon as they were inside. "Are you all right, Harry? Ginny, Sam?"

"I'm fine, how's Bill?" Harry asked.

Sam sighed. "I need to get back to Salem before my teachers notice I'm gone," he said quietly. He didn't want to be here when Harry broke the news of Dumbledore to them.

"Of course," Tonks said. "I - I'll...give me the mirror."

Sam pulled it out of his pocket and passed it over. She tapped it and muttered, " _Portus._ " It glowed blue for a moment, and then she handed it back.

The hook jerked behind his belly button, and he was spinning and flying before he landed on his feet in the dormitory.

"Sam!" somebody said. "You've been gone for hours!"

"Sorry," he said, and stepped back when Emily went to hug him. "Not - not now, I'm covered in blood," he said quietly. "Let me shower first...I'll be back in ten minutes."

Sam didn't leave the shower until the water ran clear instead of red. He dressed quickly in shorts and a T-shirt and went back to the dormitory, wand in hand. He sat in a wooden chair near his friends and tapped a long cut on his calf he hadn't noticed getting, muttering the same healing spell he'd used earlier on his arm. The skin knitted together.

"What happened?" Rebecca asked.

"Death Eaters attacked Hogwarts," Sam said dully. "There were - some deaths. Mostly theirs, but Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster, he…." He pressed his lips together tightly and shook his head. "Anyway. Just need to patch myself up some."

He did just that, finding and fixing nearly a dozen small cuts he hadn't noticed and a few larger ones that had to have happened early on for them to have clotted already.

"I don't know how they got in, and honestly, I don't care," he admitted. "This isn't the last battle there...in the next one, more people die. I've seen it. I'll be at that one, too, I know."

"How?"

Sam flickered a smile. "At the next one, my friend gets killed and I can't save her."

"Oh," Rebecca said quietly.

He and Emily ended up lying down on the couch together, wrapped up in each other, Sam smelling the honeysuckle of her hair all night long. He skipped running in the morning, but went to breakfast and class as normal. If his teachers found out he'd left the building to take part in a battle, it would not end well for him.

His acceptance letter to Law Academy - which began on July 1 and was contingent on him passing all of his Exit Exams - came on the first day of the tests. Emily squealed and kissed him before she opened her own acceptance to Healer's College.

For just over a week, he felt like he was in a pressure-cooker, and then, like the cork of a champagne bottle, he was free with his last exam's ending. His last week of school passed in a haze of Emily and classes nobody cared about anymore. His results came on the last day of the semester, and to nobody's surprise, he passed everything.

That night was graduation, and there was a feast and no curfew for the last night of the newly-graduated. Sam and Emily celebrated out on the lawn, using Sam's bug-repellant charm to keep the ants and mosquitos away.

Then the year was over, and Sam and Emily were promising to meet up on their days off, and then they trudged back up to the school at dawn to pack and get ready to leave.


End file.
